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History Rolling Down the Tracks

In my lifetime, I have seen a lot of technology. From desktop computers, to laptops, to I- Phones, to Smart Watches, to nuclear power, to electric vehicles, to new lunar video by a manned spacecraft. This, and so much more have been transitioning our way of life into more efficiency, more comfort, and more reliability. But sometimes you get a glimpse back in time and see something that was truly avant garde for the period and a mechanical wonder built in 1941 and still rolling. The Union Pacific Railroad’s “Big Boy” is the largest steam powered train in existence today and I got to see if live and up close this past weekend.

Built to transport heavy freight in the mountains at the beginning of WWII, the Big Boy weighed in at 1.2 million operating pounds and roughly 133 feet long. Originally designed as a steam locomotive, running on coal, it now has been transitioned to number 5 fuel oil, but still the largest steam powered engine in the world. At one time is held between 28 and 32 tons of coal, with a water capacity of 25,000 gallons.

Photo by Mark “the Shark” Sauers
Photo by Mark “Shark” Sauers

I really made an effort to go down to Leetsdale, Pa to see the Big Boy rolling through on it’s way back out west to where the tour began in California. The trans- continental run was celebrating the 250th anniversary of the founding of our country, and it was a welcome sight with a little bit of effort on my part after a mountain bike ride up at Laurel Mountain, and various and sundry subsequent errands on a Saturday afternoon. I was sure happy to see this piece of mechanical history rolling through, not far from my home.

I have always been fascinated by steam powered locomotives like when I took a ride on the Shay locomotives in Cass, West Virginia. The Shay #4 was built in 1922 and the Shay #6 was built in 1945 and were primarily used to haul logs for the operations of the West Virginia Paper Company. Like the Big Boy, Shay #6 is heavy, weighing in at 162 tons and similarly used to haul heavy payloads in the mountains. The cool thing about the Shay trains is that you can ride them in an open -air passenger car. My group would load our mountain bikes on the train and sit in the open -air car and experience the power of the Shay engine up the mountain to the top of Bald Knob. From there we would exit the train and ride the 25 mile MTB route back to Cass and eventually the Elk River Touring Center where we were staying in Slaty Fork, West Virginia. We had many rides on that train as part of the Elk River’s West Virginia Fat Tire Festival. Oftentimes on the descent, there was a lot of rain, and the comfort of the covered passenger car was soon replaced by the roaring Elk and Greenbrier Rivers at crossings that were manned by the Snowshoe Ski Patrol to make sure we could get safely across. I remember those days when the ski patrol had ropes stretched across the river crossings and we had to carry out bikes on our shoulders and grab the rope at the same time in order not to be swept downstream. The West Virginia Fat Tire Festival was always eventful and for me, the highlight, even ahead of the riding, was the ride on the Shay locomotive powered train in Cass.

The Shay locomotive in Cass, West Virginia.

Getting back to the Big Boy viewing for a moment, perhaps one of the most memorable things, aside from the raw power and noise of the engine, was the huge crowd that had gathered to witness the passage. I had heard that all along the route, from coast to coast, people would line the tracks, carrying US flags, and having and unbridled enthusiasm for the celebration. The crew on the train commented that everywhere they had traveled on the tracks all over the country, people were so enthusiastic about the event of Big Boy coming through their town. As I looked at our crowd, I saw Americans. I didn’t see political or philosophical differences, but we were all happy to be Americans cheering on a machine that represented all that was good about America. As the 250th has come and gone, it was refreshing to see everybody with the same happiness and enthusiasm for the Big Boy and it’s crew. There was something in that moment that made me think that with all the division in this country, we still have a lot of similarities in that we recognize America as our home and something to be proud of. The smiles on the faces of the children, the adults, and the crew of Big Boy told me that all was somehow good with the world. I felt part of a big event that was larger than the differences that we all have. Saturday, we all transcended that and we all became one as we waited for the whistle signaling the arrival of the Big Boy.

My group at one of the Fat Tire Festivals.

For all of you mountain bike riders out there, take a trip to Cass, take in the history videos there and then board your bike and ride the Shay locomotive to the top of Bald Knob. And if you are not a hiker or a mountain bike rider, go anyways. Experience the history of the country’s steam powered locomotives and enjoy history on the tracks in the mountains. Thanks for reading.

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” How good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity. Psalm 133:1

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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

The End of an Era
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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

The Colorado Relay
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No More on the Road

Riding with the incomparable Greg Lemond

This time of year, I am reminded of how much I miss road cycling. I remember when I first got interested in road cycling was when I decided to ride to North Park from my childhood home on Siebert Road. I borrowed my sister’s bike and made the trek to North Park. I was exhausted by the time I got there but knew that I had found something that I really liked. Car horns not withstanding. Fast forward, looking for a different pursuit than running, Larry Cohen suggested I get into road cycling. I bought a new Trek, got all the clothes, helmet, shoes and started to ride from North Park to Brush Creek Park in Beaver County. From there I started to get involved with the Allegheny Cycling Association and began to race and do time trials. I was hooked.

At the Mount Washington Hill Climb in New Hampshire back in the day with the classic ACA wool jersey and leather hairnet.

Continuing on with the Highland Park Zoo parking lot criterium series, the ACA Time Trials, and various local and out of state road races, I relentlessly pursued getting in shape and competing. We had the good fortune of having national class riders like Mac Martin, Matt Eaton, Tom and Danny Chew mentoring us along the way and the thrill of a fast moving pace line, 6 inches apart was addictive. I loved the training rides too out into the country of Western Pa with the scenic farms, quiet roads, and the long hours to enjoy and think about a lot of things while peddling to get into shape.

I also went on trips to Holland, Ireland and England with touring companies and soon discovered that road cycling was a great way to see a country. Ride all day and just be in the town where you were supposed to be by dinner. It was all great and road cycling became more than just a pastime to me. It was a way of life.

One day I was riding in North Park, and a car came up behind me and threw a chipped ham sandwich at my head, complete with mayo, and told me in no uncertain terms to get off the road. I knew that I had just as much right to ride that road as that car, but with continuing aggressiveness of drivers, I began to think about the consequences of an altercation on the road. I was just starting to get into mountain biking too, so I had another outlet in the event that road cycling was becoming dangerous- at least for me.

At Rothrock Trails at State College.

I began to appreciate the trails with mountain biking, no cars and a good network of friends. I also appreciated the tranquility of riding the trails with music from my earbuds and playlists. 6 years ago, I made the painful decision to stop road riding because I saw too many drivers distracted with their cell phones and texting where they should have kept their eyes on the road. I didn’t want to put my life in the hands of a distracted driver or an otherwise angry driver. The roads around my home were no longer safe to ride in my estimation. So, I quit and sold my road bike. A painful decision but the more I have moved on, I know I did the right thing- at least for me. Mountain biking is fine.

There are times when I see road cyclists zip by me while I am on my mountain bike on the road, and my competitive juices start up just for a second or two to try to catch them. But experience and my age, says no way and I just let them go with a sigh- missing the speed and grace of the road bike. I miss the pace lines and the pleasant routes through the country roads of Western Pa. But sometimes we have to make decisions that are good for us and in no way do I intend to influence others. Road cycling had become too dangerous for me, and I had to make that decision to end my participation. I have no regrets on the decision, but the nostalgia of the good times on the road bike stays with me. Especially on a sunny day in the summer.

Sometimes you have to move on from things that you really like. But circumstances dictate decisions and you have to consider others like your family. You make the right decisions for you and your family and then move on. No regrets. So, the next time you are faced with a decision, look at the whole picture and decide what is best for you and your family. Then become involved in something new and enjoy the ride- whatever that may be. Thanks for reading.

Please follow the blog on http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com It helps me.

The past is done; the future is the canvas where God will paint something new.

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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

“Every Picture Tells a Story”
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“Good to Excellent”

These were the words that I used to love to hear when I called the ski report back in the day. When I heard Lars Skylling, the Director of Skiing at Seven Springs Resort, say the skiing was good to excellent, I was excited. Lars has always been kind of a folk hero to me and when I stopped in to see him the other day, it was long overdue. I had a nice chat with his son Erik who lives in Park City, Utah. Lars is now 95 years old and it was so good to see him and to chat a bit with him. Again- he was a folk hero to lots of us kids growing up at Seven Springs in the old days.

By way of a little history, Lars learned to ski near his home in Stockholm, Sweden almost as soon as he learned to walk. He would ski 15 miles to school and back and skied with the Swedish Mountain Troops as a young man. Lars came to the United States at the urging of his brother Bert, and ended up teaching skiing at Big Bromley Ski Area in Manchester, Vermont. After only one season with the ski school at Bromley, Lars was drafted into the 46th Infantry in Germany and taught in the U.S Army Ski Patrol in World War II. Lars worked with amputee skiers in the Army in Germany, and eventually returned for two more seasons teaching skiing at Bromley. He eventually was contacted by Herman Dupre to head up the ski school at Seven Springs where he spent the rest of his career. He not only managed the ski school but was in charge of construction with many of the projects of a growing ski area in Western Pa. Hard to imagine the lives of this Greatest Generation and all they went through.

Lars and Dick Barron – head of the ski patrol at Seven Springs.

When Lars was the ski school director, I was a young guy. Along with my friends, we entered the Standard Race at Seven Springs on Sunday afternoons. Lars set the pace and all of us tried to come within a certain percentage of his time to win a coveted 7 Springs pin. They started out as bronze pins because Lars was pretty fast, but eventually, we got our golds as we entered the teenage years. When we started to beat Lars straight up, it was a proud day for all of us as well as for Lars, who mentored us in the junior racing programs. He wanted us to succeed but never gave it to us. He was fast and we had to ski really well to get that gold pin. I would call the ski school to see how we did and also called the ski report several times a week to hear Lars and his familiar voice during the ski report. He was our hero and I told him so that the day I went to see him .When he heard that, he got a big smile on his face and Erik was smiling too. I will make sure I go back to see him more frequently as we just don’t know how much longer we will have a guy like Lars with us. He is truly an icon who I have always admired.

My friend Porter Scott still wears his gold 7
So does his cousin Jamie Edson. Lars got us all enthused.

Lars was always a happy person and to see him at 95 years old with that same smile on his face was truly gratifying. I am sure he was happy to see me, but more importantly, I was really happy to see him. Many memories of growing up at Seven Springs as a young skier, were forged by my association with Lars Skylling. He is one of those classic figures that will always shape the history of skiing in Western Pa. I am privileged to know him and to relate to you how much my association with him means to me. I need to see him more often. ” The skiing is good to excellent, with a few izzzzy shpooots.” Thanks Lars. And,thanks for reading. Go see a senior citizen today.

Please follow the blog on http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com It helps me.

“Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.” 1 Thessalonians 5:11

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I Can Hear Music

So, I was driving along listening to my Pandora collection in my Jeep, and it occurred to me that I was listening to 60 year old music- The Beach Boys. I always liked them and liked their music and was pounding on the steering wheel ” Tach it up, Tach it up ,buddy going to shut you down.” ” Gadda be cool now, power shift here we go.” I revved up my Jeep pretending to be in the drag race from the song when I said to myself- slow down man. “Shutdown” was a cool song from back in the day. Next on the hit parade was ” When I Grow Up to Be a Man.” ” Will I dig the same things in a woman that I do in a girl? Will I love my wife, for the rest of my life……? When I grow up to be a man.” So funny – I do love my wife, 38 years into it, and not sure I am yet ” a man.” Have a lot of kid still left in me.

Bentley Hall- Allegheny College.

Listening to this music reminds me of my days at Allegheny College in the spring trimester when we would blast the music from the stereos in Caflisch Hall. So much fun building up to graduation . My 50 year reunion is this year and I wonder how that could be. I still feel the same over all these years, but it is not lost on me that the years have gone by. The Beach Boys are still touring minus most of the original players but, still at it- 60 years later. “Lets go surfin now, everybody’s learnin how – come on a safari with me…..”

I kept the Boys on when I was riding at my local MTB route the other day and really enjoyed peddling to the sounds of Wipeout by the Surfaris on my Shokz earpieces. Some of the great music on the Pandora Beach Boys channel include the iconic sounds of Jan and Dean- ” The Little Old Lady from Pasadena.” Another great tune to get your engine running – this time pumping up a rock strewn trail. ” She’s the terror of Colorado Boulevard” I geared up one when I heard that. LOL!!! The smile on my face made me realize that I was actually riding back in time and remembering where I was when I used to hear all those tunes.

Not a fuel injected Stingray or a 413 and doesn’t sound real mean. LOL!!

It’s not like I am wishing that I was back in the past, but some of that music is just ingrained in me and when I hear familiar tunes, I really enjoy them. I sing to them and remember all the good times. Yes- 50 years out of college is a daunting statistic, but I am enjoying life and look forward to many more happy years. I am upping my game a bit with music that is a little more current- but not that current. I can take my old music ahead to many drives and rides in the future. Janet kind of shakes her head when I hear a tune and remember the artist. I bet her 5 bucks she can’t name the tune or the artist and most of the time, I win. Ronnie and the Ronettes- you lose. Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs – you lose. After all, she is 8 years younger than me and didn’t listen to music as much as I did ,driving my cars around. She doesn’t know the Flying Burrito Brothers, or the New Riders of the Purple Sage either- but then again- not many do. I actually had an Iron City beer back in the day with Commander Cody and his Lost Planet Airmen. But ………………then again, not many people remember them either. Hint- ” Hot Rod Lincoln.”

This discussion might be lost on some of the younger crowd who read my blog. But, for those of us who are a little older, the sounds of “Pet Sounds” are fondly remembered. I even get a little misty eyed when I hear, ” God only knows what I’d do without you.” Sometimes the sentimentality knocks you off kilter on the trail and you have to compose yourself getting through the rocks. Then comes……………….” she’s real fine my 409, my 409. Well, I saved my pennies and I saved my dimes. Before I knew there would be a time. When I would drive a brand new 409.” That got me through that screaming downhill and the hikers I passed probably thought……………..what in the world is that guy singing.” LOL!!! Keep listening to the oldies, and thanks for reading.

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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

The Art of the Change
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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

Running on a Prayer
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Familiar with the Line

My finish trail at my local ride

The other day I was riding Frick Park with a bunch of guys and some of those trails are pretty sketchy if you don’t know them. As I get older, I notice that I get a little conservative on trails that I don’t know so well and ride rather timidly at times. The uphill rooty sections at Frick were a little un-nerving because I am not that familiar with them, and trying to ride them aggressively is not something I am comfortable with doing anymore. On my way home, I thought about this and said to myself that I would rather ride trails where I know the line, and can ride them with confidence. Lots of my younger friends like to explore and ride new trails but me……..not so much anymore. I know I ride the same places all the time, but I am comfortable with them even in the nastiest of weather. Maybe it is a product of aging? Not sure, but I know what I like and don’t like at this point. The good thing is that I know a lot of trails in different places but the more familiar I am with them- the better.

I know these trails and the challenge is familiar. Laurel Mountain

I have my local rides where I know the trails, and I ride them several times per week. I also try to go to places like Laurel Mountain where the riding is challenging but I know the lines and can manage through some pretty technical sections because of familiarity. I also love the scenery there which, anymore, is as important to me as comfort with the trail system. I take a lot of heat from friends who want me to expand my horizon, but I hold my ground lately. I would rather be comfortable riding a familiar area then experimenting with a trail that I don’t know. And at this point in life, I don’t want to get hurt either. I don’t heal as well as I did in my youth. Occasionally I will venture out on to some new stuff, but mostly on my own so that I can become familiar and then add it to my quiver of trails. I have a good selection locally and also in places like West Virginia, State College, and the Laurel Mountains. Once I am familiar with them, my memory serves me well.

Lower Wildcat at Laurel Mountain State Park Ski Area

Interestingly, I kind of have the same perspective in my winter activity of skiing. People ask me when I ski locally at Laurel Mountain, why I just lap Wildcat. I tell them it is the best trail in the state and there are a number of different lines that you can take. But for the most part, I am familiar with that trail and, well, I just ski it comfortably. My friend Porter is the same. He skis familiar slopes and trails and skis his favorite lines like I do. He is aging too. So…………maybe there is something to that. But when you feel confident to make good turns on a slope or trail with which you are comfortable…..it is a lot of fun. Even if it is repetitive. Like mountain biking, I also have a good head knowledge and memory of places that I have skied When I travel and make my way out west to Mammoth Mountain for instance, I have enough experience and memory that I am comfortable with their terrain and can ski it confidently. I remember the lines and can do that in a lot of ski areas with which I am familiar. I may not know the trail names, but I know where to go and how to ski them.

Top of the gondola runs at Mammoth. I do know a couple of the names of the famous drops.

As I followed the group the other night at Frick, it became more and more clear to me how much I like familiar territory and how much I don’t like being surprised anymore. When you can rail a trail on your MTB at speed because you know every rock and ditch, you finish the ride with a smile on your face. Sure, I have done it a hundred times or more, but at my age, I am happy to be familiar and ride with confidence. Same with skiing.

Steins Way at Deer Valley- I know it and know how to ski it.
Rocky but I know the trail.
I even like to hike familiar trails- so as not to lose Janet. LOL!!

So, the next time you are riding or skiing with me and you want to explore, I may say to you…..” go ahead, I will meet you.” Not being rude or inconsiderate, but I like to be at my best and I do that on terrain that is familiar. Just a little factor of aging, I suppose. But no apologies, and you can always be sure that I know where I am going. LOL!! Thanks for reading.

Please follow the blog on http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com It helps me.

“You are my hiding place. You will protect me from trouble.” Psalm 32:7